Lime And Chili Aioli
by Jinko
Summary: Stiles was stuck in a bank robbery in the middle of the day in the middle of Beacon Hills and he could have pocket-dialled Scott or Derek but his phone was on the kitchen bench, covered in lime and chili aioli.


**Disclaimer: I am not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Complete**

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**Lime And Chili Aioli**

**-Jinko-**

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His phone was covered in lime and chili aioli. That was where the trouble came from. His phone was useless and he hadn't yet had the time to replace it and because he didn't have his phone on him, he couldn't call for help.

Stiles was stuck in a bank robbery in the middle of the day in the middle of Beacon Hills and he could have pocket-dialled Scott or Derek but his phone was on the kitchen bench, covered in lime and chili aioli.

He'd slipped up while making the sauce for the party that was to start in the next few hours and had dropped the phone into the large bowl, forcibly ending the call he was on with Dad. When he'd picked the phone up out of the egg and garlic and lemon juice, he'd wiped it down and tried to call back Dad, but nothing worked so he'd given up and put the aioli in the fridge and headed out to the bank. His talk with Dad had been a reminder about the credit card bill Stiles had racked up, despite his credit card only existing for 'emergencies'. His dad just didn't understand that he had many emergencies now that his life was infiltrated by werewolves (two years had passed since Scott was bitten and they still hadn't told Dad).

Paying the bill at the bank wasn't something Stiles normally did. He had an app that let him pay it off and he preferred to use his phone over his computer. Too many porn movies had been streamed on his computer and he didn't want to think about the viruses lurking there. He wasn't about to put his banking details on a virus-ridden system and he couldn't use his phone, so the bank it was.

The line for the tellers was at least seven-people long and every desk had a customer sitting along with a staff member and that hadn't been a good sign. Stiles had to be at the loft by five with a cake he had yet to ice.

Now Beacon Hills wasn't the type of place where actual crimes were committed. Sure, they had a pest problem that rivalled Sunnydale and the Island of Berk (though they hadn't come across any dragons yet (Derek and Peter were extraordinarily vague and subject-changey whenever Stiles tried to talk to them about dragons)) but the humans (hunters notwithstanding) weren't trouble-makers. There were break-ins and vandals and the occasional call for domestic abuse but Stiles was sure the only people in Beacon Hills who owned a firearm were those in the sheriff's department and the Argents.

So when Dad had mentioned once over dinner that there had been a string of armed robberies around the county that were getting closer and closer to Beacon Hills, Stiles figured the crew in charge would just breeze past the little town that only ever showed up on expensive maps.

It never crossed his mind that he'd be the fourth in line when a shot was fired behind him. That was when the hollering and the panicking started.

Stiles didn't panic, though. No, he groaned and hated his life that he wasn't panicking because he was so fucking used to life or death situations.

Being the good hostage that he is, Stiles slipped down to the ground, face-down with his palms against the smooth flooring by his head. His first instinct had been to sneak his hand into his front pocket to blindly speed-dial either Scott or Derek, but he'd slipped two fingers in only to realise that his phone wasn't there.

Nope, it died a terrible death by lime and chili aioli.

There was one distinct voice barking out the orders (and didn't Stiles know what that was like, thanks to Derek) but there were at least three others according to the sounds of scuffling boots. The orders were just what Stiles expected: _Don't move! I'll shoot you all if I see anyone move! If you don't shut that baby up, I swear to God, I'll… Eyes down. Do not look up!_ It was everything Stiles had heard in the cinemas.

Just put the money in the bag, damnit! No ink! I said no ink!

Stiles tried to subtly look around. He'd been fourth in line but there had been a line of people who'd come in after him.

What was worse, though, was that Stiles could hear that there were kids there with their parents. He hadn't paid them any attention when he was lining up, but he could hear them sniffling and moving closer to their parents in fear.

I said shut up!

Two of the were roughing up the manager and was taking her to the back of the building so they could get into the safes or the safety boxes or whatever it was a bank of a small town had.

And then someone did something stupid. A gun fired again, this time a shotgun, and Stiles heard the guard gasp wetly before dying. The kids started to cry openly and one even got up to run away.

Get back down, you little shit!

Stiles heard the tell-tale _click-click_ of a maniac pumping out the previous shell and cocking ready for the next shot. He jumped up and put himself between the robber and the kid.

"Dude," Stiles breathed, grabbing on to the kid's upper arms and keeping him behind him. The child instinctively held on to the back of Stiles' shirt and Stiles found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun.

This was new. And stupid.

And somehow, Stiles found himself fully capable of looking past the gun to eye the man holding it. Normally, Stiles would call someone holding a gun to a child a monster, but he'd met real monsters and they were nothing like this guy. In fact, he'd found that some of these monsters were too adorable to be called monsters.

Who could say Scott or Isaac, with their adorable puppy-eyes, were monsters?

Stiles actually rolled his eyes at himself for thinking along those lines. Not important, he had to remind himself.

No, he chose to engrave this guy's face to his memory so he could give Dad an accurate description, just in case the fuckers got away.

So this guy was wearing a mask. That sucked. It was a balaclava, so Stiles couldn't even see what his hair colour was, but he was white with brown eyes. Common. Double sucks. And, you know, he has a gun pointed at Stiles.

Triple sucks.

God damn this Saturday. And the untimely gloopy death of his phone. If he'd called a werewolf, they'd have interfered by now and saved the day.

"And who the _fuck_ are you to play hero, kid?" the gunman, Sir Common, as Stiles mentally knighted him, demanded.

"It's not cool to kill a kid," Stiles said simply. If he could play it cool with the Hales, he sure could stare down this human.

"What the fuck is going on?" One of the gunmen who'd taken the manager to the back had run back into the front room at the sound of the shot. "Did you fucking kill the guard?" His voice was a little higher than Sir Common's was and tufts of blonde hair were peeking out of his balaclava. Blondie, then. Blondie wasn't happy with his co-conspirator at all. From what Dad had said, these guys hadn't killed anyone yet.

Sir Common was more dangerous than Blondie, it would seem.

"He moved," Sir Common rationalised, not lowering his gun from where it was trained on Stiles' face.

The one raiding the teller's tills came out from behind the tills with one bag full of money in one hand and a handgun in his other, steering the teller forward. He pushed her down to the ground with one move. "Face down on the ground," he snapped at her before coolly making his way over to Sir Common. He dropped the money on the ground beside him and used his free hand to push the shotgun down.

"That's enough. Kill the guards if they move but we don't touch the hostages," he said sternly.

So, Sir Common was the hothead, Blondie was a minion and this guy, who was larger, more confident and, from the sounds of things, older, was the boss.

Boss-man eyed Stiles and looked beyond him to look at the child behind him. The little boy hid closer to Stiles, hiding his face like a shy four-year-old would hide behind her mother. After getting a good enough look, he turned back to Stiles.

"You're brave," he commented and Stiles knew that this was one of the moments his mouth would get him in trouble. He considered himself very lucky that his mouth understood this, too. Very rarely did his mouth and his brain get along with this, but apparently the instinct to live overrode his normal instinct to _speak_. "Stupid, but brave."

The sound of sirens filled the air and Sir Common raised his gun again, this time at the other hostages. "I told you this place was too close," he hissed out but Boss-man didn't flinch.

"I want you all up at the front," Boss-man ordered, grabbing Stiles by the front of his shirt and dragging him across the floor to be the first standing in the soon-to-grow row. The kid stumbled as he followed, not willing to leave Stiles' side until he and his father were reunited in the human barrier that would stop the police from firing into the building. Stiles could only hope that his dad would see him there.

There were about fifteen to twenty people in total lined up across the front of the room, facing outwards. Blondie was tasked with getting the phones off everyone while Boss-man sat back and watched. The fourth came back into the front with the manager and forced her into line before he and Sir Common returned to the vaults or wherever it was they disappeared to.

"Where's your phone?" Blondie asked when he stopped behind Stiles and Stiles had nothing to hand over.

"Don't have one," Stiles shrugged.

Boss-man came up and pushed Blondie away so he could just about press himself against Stiles' back. It was all intimidation, Stiles knew. About a year and a half ago, there was this pack of alphas and these two identical twins tried the same thing. Boss-man was a lot less scary than those two would ever be.

And then Stiles felt it.

It was that feeling of the air being sucked away from your skin while a nose dragged over it. It was the feeling of being scented by a werewolf who knew you were human but could tell that you were part of a pack.

"What kind of kid doesn't have a phone?" Boss-man asked and Stiles could _feel_ the smirk on his lips. He could smell the fear that Stiles was finally feeling.

"It's covered in lime and chili aioli." When the enemy could tell when you were lying, sometimes going for the truth helped. "I dropped it when I was making it just before I came here to pay my credit card bill off. Well, not off. Just the minimum monthly payment, but I wasn't about to tell my dad that. He doesn't like it when I'm charged the interest but I can't afford to just pay it all off at the moment, you know? I mean, I guess you don't know since you're really good at this robbing banks thing…"

Boss-man actually growled and took another deep sniff. "You think this isn't our first bank?"

Could admitting your father is the sheriff of the town make the situation worse? Stiles didn't know, but he knew that any lie he told would be picked up on. "My dad's the sheriff. He told me about you guys, what, two nights ago? He said that he and some of the other sheriffs around were tracking your movements and thought that you might hit here soon but we figured you wouldn't bother since we're such a small town."

Blondie's voice went high and squeaky again. "We're holding the _sheriff's kid_ hostage? Shit, Liam; we can't do this!"

It was the first time, in any of the robberies, that a name had been uttered, so it didn't surprise Stiles in the slightest that Boss-man, or Liam as it were, turned and backhanded Blondie across the face.

One of the phones from the consultant's desks started to ring then, so Liam backed away from Stiles to answer it.

"If it's the sheriff, I'll put it on loud speaker for you," Liam taunted before lifting the receiver off its cradle. "Beacon Hills Trust, how can I help?" Whoever it was must have identified themselves as Dad because Liam put him on loud speaker, just as he'd promised. "Why, Sheriff. I was hoping it would be you. We've got the most delicious boy I've ever seen here claiming to be your son. He's about five-ten, seventeen or eighteen years old. Just a moment." Liam pushed up from the desk he was sitting on to return to Stiles. His hand reached down into Stiles' back pocket and pulled out his wallet before he went back to the desk. "Stilinski, you said? I've got Gosc — how the fuck do you actually pronounce that and why did Child Services allow you to do that?"

Dad's voice came through tinny. "Leave him out of this, or I swear, I'll…"

"Dad," Stiles interrupted, turning around so he could face Liam. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"Well, the guard isn't," Liam sighed theatrically. "Tell you what; you coppers do as I say and the guard'll be the only one dead here today."

There was a pause on the other line. "What are you demands?"

Liam shrugged. "Not too sure yet. Call back in five minutes, and Sheriff, I'll only talk to you. If anyone else calls this line, we'll kill someone else." It was dramatic when Liam hung up the phone and really, that was the only downside Stiles had found with mobile phones. You can't hang up dramatically anymore without a death threat attached.

Blondie looked worried that Stiles was allowed to face their way and that was when Stiles realised that Blondie had no idea what was going on. He might have been part of the other robberies but he didn't have a clue what Liam was. Stiles doubted Sir Common was a werewolf. The joy he found in his shotgun was too great. Werewolves didn't need guns. They preferred to tear people apart with their own claws and fangs.

"What requests are you gonna make?" Blondie asked Liam in a stage-whisper that everyone heard. "We're gonna need transport and safe passage somewhere they won't be able to follow us."

Liam cocked his head to the side and ignored Blondie. "Why do you smell so good?"

"What?" Blondie hissed but Liam waved him off.

"Go check on the other two." Liam waited until he was gone. "He's so needy. It pisses me off." He sighed again and this time his eyes glowed gold for a second before he repeated himself. "Why do you smell so good?"

Stiles looked around him. He couldn't exactly answer that he was a human in a werewolf pack. "It-it must be my boyfriend's cologne. He likes it when I smell like him. A little territorial, you know? A psychologist would probably call him an _alpha_ male. But you? You seem like you could be an alpha but I think for the moment, you're a little bit more like an omega, right? A lone wolf?"

A low chuckle actually came from Liam's throat. "Seems about right. I just haven't found the right person to control like that. What does Daddy think about your alpha boyfriend?"

The meaning was clear. Did the sheriff know about the werewolves? "He doesn't know. He's a little bit older than me and I've only been legal for a few weeks. I don't exactly want my boyfriend arrested by my own dad."

"But you have friends who know about him, right?"

"A few."

Those eyes glowed again. "How many?"

He mentally counted their pack. Scott; Allison; Lydia; Jackson; Isaac; Boyd; Erica; Megan (an omega who stumbled upon the pack and was now Isaac's fiancée because they were madly in love and absolutely perfect for each other in that way that they were both a little broken to start off with but now fit perfectly); Danny (who still wasn't a werewolf but knew that Derek wasn't Miguel); Jeremy (who was a werewolf and the latest addition to the pack thanks to the romance going on between him and Danny); Peter and Derek.

"About ten or eleven people."

"It's very nice that they keep your secret for you. What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Derek. Derek _Hale_."

On more than one occasion, they'd found themselves in a spot of trouble but name-dropping had gotten enough of a reaction that they had the upper hand.

It didn't work this time, even if someone in the human barricade gasped. Stiles would put money on it being Missus Holloway. The octogenarian lived across the road from him and was the type of woman who had about six cats and a pair of binoculars so she could 'keep an eye' on said cats whenever they were outside. The cats were as old as she was and never left the house if they could help it. Everyone knew that she was spying on the whole neighbourhood because she was right out of a Jane Austen novel. Everyone knew how to gossip in _Pride and Prejudice_ and Missus Holloway was no different.

"You say that as if I'm supposed to know who he is. I'm not from around here, boy. What do I even call you?"

"Stiles. People call me Stiles."

Liam scoffed and looked back at the ID in his hand. He flipped Stiles' wallet back together and sauntered over to Stiles. Stiles held his ground (because running from a wolf was a terrible idea) but that meant that when Liam pressed his body against Stiles' own, he got the full effect. Liam was trying to mark him with his own scent. With a smirk, he slipped the wallet into Stiles' front pocket this time, letting his hand linger over Stiles' thigh.

"You've really been out of the game for a long time if you think that's a good idea," Stiles breathed.

For all that he'd said, Derek wasn't actually Stiles' boyfriend and Stiles wasn't actually touched like this regularly, if ever. Sure, Derek would throw him against a wall and keep him there until he was satisfied with how Stiles smelled, rubbing his awfully prickly face over his cheeks and chin and neck, but there was never any below-the-belt touching like there was now and even though Stiles wanted somebody (_anybody_) to touch him this way, Liam was, perhaps, the only exception.

"Won't Derek like it?"

"Derek's the kind who'll slash your throat open before you could mutter an apology."

The phone rang again and Liam slipped back to answer, putting it on speaker straight away. "That wasn't five minutes."

"Fathers tend to interrupt the sons-of-bitches who molest their sons," Dad said, bringing a smile to Liam's face.

"Oh, that's so cute." Liam pulled himself back up onto the desk. "Demand number one: I want an armoured vehicle to take me and my crew out of here. We want a full tank of gas and a clear path. No GPS or anything funny like that."

"Send out the women and children and we'll do just that."

"Stiles doesn't count as a child. He's a legal adult now. That leaves me with only six hostages, Sheriff. That's not much leverage at all. How about you bring me Stiles' boyfriend and I'll let them all go?"

There was no answer from Dad, so Stiles stepped up closer to the desk so he'll be heard.

"Yeah, Dad…remember that time I tried to come out and you told me I wasn't gay?"

"Shut it, Stiles."

Liam actually laughed at the Stilinski pair.

"He's pretty serious, Dad. I-I have a boyfriend. I've been seeing him for a few months now."

Stiles could swear he heard his dad drag his hand down his face. "That's definitely a conversation for a different time."

"I can't imagine this was in the FBI handbook for hostage situations."

"It definitely wasn't," Dad agreed. "What do you want with his boyfriend? Who is your boyfriend, Stiles?" There was a moment and Stiles could actually hear the pieces falling into place this time. "You can't be serious."

"I don't know how you just figured it out, Dad, but he legit has nothing to do with robbing banks or breaking the law. I know I've accused him of murder a few times before but he's actually a really good guy and…"

"Derek Hale is too old for you, Son." The words were hissed out like the mayor was right beside him and he was going to lose his elected position. Again. "And he is breaking the law if he's sleeping with you. That's rape, Stiles…"

"Remember how you said that this is a conversation for a different time? We can talk about it later. Just…just get him here."

"What does he have to do with this?"

"I want your son," Liam said before Stiles could say anything. "I want your son and I'll fight this Derek Hale to the death for him. If you can bring him to the bank, I'll let every man, woman and child, except for the guard, walk out of the bank. Hell, if you get him here fast enough, I'll even hand over my accomplices here."

"Stiles…"

"Dad. I know. Look, Derek…he'll do it. Not the death part because he's not actually a murderer, but he'll protect me."

"Sheriff, if you don't get Derek Hale here in ten minutes, I'll let my murderous little friend shoot a hostage. You have ten minutes," Liam repeated and hung up the phone with another overdramatic slam. "You accused your own boyfriend of murder? Repeatedly?"

"We found his dead sister at his house and thought he was dead the second time. It was a lot easier than telling the truth about who was trying to kill us," Stiles muttered, suddenly feeling drained. If Derek didn't come, someone else was getting shot. He could feel how terrified the others were. "So you don't care about the other three, then?"

"It's hard to care about three when two are already dead."

Someone moved. It was a shock to hear that they were dead, even if they were the bad guys in this scenario.

"What-what do you mean?"

"They got into a little argument," Liam sighed. He was examining his gun. "How'd you meet this Derek fellow? He doesn't seem to be the type of person the sheriff's son should be hanging out with. How do you go on dates in such a small town without Daddy finding out?"

Stiles didn't even bother with worrying about the gun. His focus was on the werewolf in front of him and what had happened to the other two robbers. What about the third? "I somehow always manage to get into trouble." Motioning around them, he continued, "case and point."

It got a chuckle out of Liam. "I suppose that's true. You must spend a lot of time at Derek's place, then. Rent a lot of movies, hmm?"

"Something like that."

"I bet you'd like to hear how Daddy had to break it to your boyfriend that he knows and that you're being held at gunpoint right now."

"Derek's probably angry as all hell," Stiles shrugged. "Challenging him to a fight's a terrible idea, dude. His muscles have muscles and he has a serious anger-management problem."

His words didn't deter as per plan. Instead, Liam approached him again, smirking all the while. "He doesn't sound like much of a catch, Stiles," Liam simpered and Stiles stepped back as he got closer until he was back in line with the others, facing Liam while they stayed facing the windows. Liam reached out and caught him by his belt loops, stopping him from going any further and leant in at the same time. "I'm sure you can do much better."

Stiles shuddered when Liam dragged his nose down Stiles' neck. When it trailed back up to Stiles' chin, his tongue followed. "Not too sure, what with the balaclava and all, but I'd say Derek is a lot prettier than you," Stiles managed to get out after taking several deep breaths. It was difficult, that was for sure.

Liam laughed again and pulled the mask off but before Stiles could get a look at him, he was burying his head into Stiles' neck, nuzzling him, _scenting him_. "Maybe I'll just have to tear that pretty little face to pieces, then."

"Seriously, man," Stiles hissed, pushing at Liam's chest. "Fuck off. You don't know what you're messing —" Liam cut him off, kissing him like kisses were assaults. Bruising and biting and wet and no matter how hard Stiles tried to push him off, he didn't let go until he was ready to. And when he pulled back, his eyes were gold again, standing out from his incredibly pale face. There was nothing too outstanding about Liam's face; you'd forget it and him if you were introduced at a party. "Do you even know the rules, fucktard?" He hadn't been angry before. He was now.

But Liam didn't care for the warnings. He stayed uncomfortably close, claws digging in to Stiles' hips and waist possessively. "As you said, I've been out of the game for quite some time. If I want you, I can take you. I could mount you right here in front of everyone and no one would be able to stop me; not your daddy, not your alpha _lover_. You said I could be an alpha. I said I haven't found my beta yet. I'd have you. You'd be my beautiful little beta pet."

It was a crazy notion. The alpha pack had tried to take the betas and the humans from the Hale pack and Derek fought tooth and nail for each of them, literally. Stiles knew it was near-impossible to break those pack-ties if anyone was unwilling. He might not have been a wolf, but he was as much a part of the pack as any of the betas.

"Bank robberies and raping. How pleasant. I'm not leaving Derek and you can't force me to and I sure as hell wouldn't sign on willingly to a pack that pulls this shit."

"And I suppose this Derek, who you only keep around for his prettiness, treats his betas much better than that."

"He treats his friends with the respect they deserve and he'd never force anyone to do anything they didn't want to do."

Liam backed away with a parting kiss to Stiles' chin. "You're actually completely crazy about him, aren't you?"

"I—"

By now, Stiles was used to guns firing. He was used to that popping sound that made his ears ring for a little while afterwards and the flash of light that normally would have blinded him if it was dark. He was used to the smell and the natural fear that followed and he jumped when Liam let off a shot. He didn't scream anymore, not like everyone else in the bank, but for all that he was used to, seeing someone get shot was completely different.

Stiles had never had to deal with a gun-shot victim before Kate Argent shot Derek but he'd seen many more wounds since and only two of them had been humans. You'd be surprised how many new hunters would shoot at the first sound they heard in a forest. They normally shot themselves more than they'd shoot a werewolf.

But Liam, he shot one of the men in the human barricade and the man went down, bellowing in pain and the others joined in with the screaming and the crying.

"Jesus fucking…!"

Liam rolled his eyes. "Relax. It's just his leg."

When it didn't seem like Liam was going to shoot him, Stiles rushed forward to the man. He was there with his two kids, who were now in hysterics.

"Okay, kids," Stiles breathed, kneeling beside the victim, who was squirming in agony, "I need you two to be brave for Dad here, okay? Dad's gonna be fine. It's just a shot to the leg." He unbuckled the father's belt and wrapped it, as tightly as he could, high up on his thigh since the injury was just above the knee. "Dad can't be focusing on getting better if he's focusing on you guys worrying, right? So no more tears until we get out of here. My friend'll be here in no time and then Liam's gonna let us all go because he promised my dad, the sheriff."

And then Liam was there, pulling Stiles up and away from the family, barking everyone to get back in line and to quieten down. They were over by the phone when it rang since the noise would have been heard from the outside.

"No one else is dead," breathed Liam when he answered, "We just have ourselves a man who'll be limping for the rest of his life. Your son's made sure he won't bleed out. If he stops lying to me, I won't have to shoot anyone else, alright?" He hung up the phone right after that, having felt he got the message through, before he looked up at Stiles through his lashes. "No lying, Stiles. Are you in love with him?"

The phone rang for a fourth time before Stiles could settle his heart down and come up with an answer that wouldn't get someone else hurt. Liam growled angrily this time when he answered it. "What?"

"Hale's here," Dad said. "I don't really want to be sending him in unarmed…"

"I'll release the women and children. The men are free to go when he's in here with us. Stiles stays."

"It'll be fine, Dad," Stiles added softly. "I trust Derek. He won't let anything happen to me. And he can hold his own against this guy, I swear it. And it is just the one guy, Dad. Liam's said at least two of his friends have killed each other…"

"Hale!"

"Dad?"

Dad grumbled something before returning his full attention to Stiles. "Hale's heading in now. Start letting out the women and children."

Liam rolled his eyes and motioned with his gun for Stiles to lead them out. Stiles didn't waste any time. He dashed to the hostages and guided the ones he could to the door, starting with Missus Holloway. When he opened it up, he could see Derek approaching, even going as far as to steer the relieved few to safety.

There was a little more bulk to Derek and as he got closer, Stiles saw, with no small amount of humour, that Dad had but the big bad alpha werewolf in a bulletproof vest. A grin split in his face in two before he could stop it and Derek rolled his eyes.

Derek paused when he was at the door with Stiles and Stiles could see it in his eyes that he just wanted to take Stiles away to where it was safe, regardless to the werewolf in the in the bank.

"I'm okay," Stiles muttered, shuddering when Derek ducked his head down to sniff at him. To onlookers, it would look like they were touching like a couple would.

"He's touched you," Derek hissed, running nose along the same path Liam had. His hand cupped the back of Stiles' head, keeping him close. Stiles let his fingers trail over the vest.

"This is cute."

"Stiles."

Stiles looked over to where Dad was standing by the cruiser, watching closely. That was when Liam sent one of the men to come and get them. Derek pushed Stiles and the man behind him before entering fully.

"I want the two of you back here before I release the rest," Liam said, waving Stiles and Derek behind him. They obeyed and Liam shook his gun at the hostages until the four able men helped the shot man out of there.

Derek kept his body between Stiles and Liam, letting his eyes turn red while unstrapping the vest. He never took his eyes off Liam, though, and always made sure he could feel that Stiles was right behind him.

"The police can see everything," Derek said simply. "They haven't got ears in here but they've hacked into the video feed."

Liam just cocked his head to the side and evaluated Derek. "You were right, Stiles. He is quite pretty."

"Oh, Jesus, really? _That's_ what you tell him?" Stiles accepted the vest when Derek reached back to give it to him.

"Put it on," Derek ordered and Stiles blinked at the back of his head dumbly. "It smells like me now and you reek of this omega filth."

Liam sneered at him. "I think he smells good. Do you think he'd make an excellent bitch? I think he would."

A growl rumbled out of Derek's throat.

"You know, if you wanna kick this guy's teeth in, I'm really supportive of this," Stiles suggested, throwing on the vest but not doing it up.

"Where's the other werewolf?"

"I didn't see another werewolf. There were four guys to start with, but he's said that two are dead."

"I can hear his heartbeat but we're the only four in the building."

"The other werewolf killed Blondie and Sir Common? You guys are nuts." Stiles reached forward and curled a hand in the back of Derek's shirt. "Are the Argents here?"

Derek nodded his head once and he stepped up, making Stiles let go. "You want a fight? I'm fine with that. After I have you submit, the local hunters will step in and take you where they can deal with you."

"You'll have the humans do your dirty work?" Liam scoffed, putting the gun down on the desk he was leaning against.

Red eyes rolled. "I'm not killing you on camera when the entire county's sheriff department is outside."

"But you'll still kick his teeth in, right?"

Derek nodded his head and started to move towards Liam. Liam got up, eyes burning gold. Both wolves growled and Stiles saw Liam's fangs for the first time. He was baring them to Derek, challenging him, but both Derek and Stiles knew that an omega was no challenge for an alpha, especially one with a pack as strong as the Hale pack.

Liam made the first move, taking a right-handed swipe at Derek's head. Derek merely stepped to the left, delivering a sharp punch to Liam's gut, making him double over with a yelp. Both fists were brought down on his exposed back, sending him face-first to the ground. Derek kicked him over onto his back and wrapped his hand around his throat to pull him back up and punch him, slamming his fist against Liam's upper cheek. He let Liam fall back then and straddled him, hitting him again and again, harder and harder.

"Stiles will never be yours," Derek hissed, punching until Stiles interrupted.

It was the sick crack of bone that had Stiles stepping in, dragging his fingers over the back of Derek's neck to get his attention.

Derek reached back with his left hand and soothed it down Stiles' shin, wordlessly telling Stiles to stand back, before he stood and grabbed Liam by the neck again to slam him against the desk he'd been leaning against. Stiles shuddered when he heard the snap of bone.

Liam crumpled down to the ground now that he couldn't use his legs.

Stiles went back to Derek, grabbed his wrist and turned him around so he could wrap his arms around Derek's shoulders in a warm hug that Derek returned. Faces found necks and Derek took the chance to get another whiff.

From the floor, the beaten omega tried to take a swipe at Derek but Derek kicked at him without interfering with the embrace.

Just a moment later, the doors to the bank opened up and three men in suits rushed in, armed with guns.

"Who brought the Feebs here?" Stiles joked when he saw one of the men cuff Liam. He'd seen those cuffs before, what with their special runes for binding werewolves and all.

"There's another omega in here," Derek told the hunters as they dragged Liam to his feet. His spine was still healing, so they set him on the desk until he was free to move again. "He's killed two humans in the back of the bank."

With that, he slung an arm over Stiles' shoulder, keeping his pack-mate close to him. It hadn't been a joke when Stiles had told Liam that his alpha was overprotective and liked it when he smelt like him.

"I'm gonna get it for calling you my boyfriend, aren't I?" Stiles groaned and Derek snickered against Stiles' temple.

"You have no idea."

"He could smell you on me, dude. I couldn't just say you're my werewolf alpha, so I kinda told him that you're my protective boyfriend with an alpha-male personality. So what did Dad say?"

Derek breathed in to answer but before he could, the bank was filled with growls. He turned sharply, pushing Stiles behind him again. All eyes turned towards the back room, where the last werewolf was standing, hunched over, wolfed out and snarling viciously. He was covered in blood, his hands were drenched in it, and he was foaming at the mouth. A growl came from Derek in response, rising to the challenge.

The hunters pulled Liam up with them and one drew his gun. Three shots later and the rabid werewolf was down.

"Oh that's not right," Stiles groaned and Derek had his arm around him again, leading him out.

Outside the bank was hectic. Police cars, ambulances and SUVs lined the street; people were staring with cameras from behind the barricades, the press was there and when they were finally clear, the boy Stiles first protected ran to him, knocking Stiles back into Derek's unmovable form.

"Thanks," the boy muttered, his words were smothered by Stiles' stomach.

A second person came up from behind the boy. She looked to be his mother. She was smiling wetly with red-rimmed eyes, like she'd been crying since the moment they were safe.

"It's okay," Stiles soothed, running his hand over the child's floppy hair. He mustn't have been any older than eight or nine.

"We mean it," his mother said, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "Thank you so very much." She looked up at Derek. "You too, Derek, isn't it? Thank you."

Dad appeared then and pulled them away towards an ambulance where a paramedic was waiting for them.

"I'm fine," Stiles argued when Dad had him sit down to be checked on. There was a brief exchange between the sheriff and Derek, one where Dad was giving Derek permission to still be around and Derek stayed as close as he was allowed to be.

"I don't even know where to start," Dad said, shaking his head. "I want to start with this," he pointed a finger at Derek, "but I'm not going to."

The paramedic looked over Stiles quickly. "Doesn't seem like anything's wrong," he told Dad before motioning that Derek and Stiles should change. "You fought, right?"

"I'm fine," Derek waved off. "He didn't get a punch in."

"Just…entertain us, Hale," Dad ordered and Derek rolled his eyes as he took Stiles' seat. The first thing he did was check Derek's knuckles, which were tinted red with Liam's blood, so those were cleaned off to check for any cuts. "You, explain." He was pointing at Stiles' chest.

"I was at the bank today because I was paying off my card, just like you told me to." Blaming his dad wasn't his intention. "These guys came in and started the robbery. Someone must have triggered a silent alarm. They shot the guard after they had us down, I didn't see it because I was actually trying to be a good hostage, you know? But then this kid ran out and they were gonna shoot him, so I stood up and got in the way…"

Dad and Derek yelled at him, unsurprisingly.

"Well, he didn't shoot me, did he?" Stiles reasoned and let Derek pull him in between his legs so his lower back was against the inside of Derek's left thigh. "You guys are overreacting." It didn't stop him from leaning into Derek's heat, though. The body heat of a werewolf was addicting, he'd learnt. "So I guess that got me on their radar and when I didn't have my phone to hand over… The head guy, the one you talked to, he got a little flirty, so I told him about Derek and yeah. He got really interested and decided that he wanted to take me from Derek. He was more interested in me than in robbing the bank after that."

That was when the hunters came out with Liam and put him into the back of one of their SUVs. His bruised face hadn't healed yet thanks to the handcuffs.

"We'll have to go back to the station to get a full statement," Dad sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. "How do you always find yourself in trouble?"

"Trust me, this one I wish I could have avoided."

Derek agreed, pressing his nose into Stiles' arm.

"Oh God. I am not ready for this. We'll finish up here but you two need to be at the station in half an hour for that statement." Dad waved them both off and the first thing they did was head over to where Scott and the rest of the pack were waiting at the barricades for information.

Scott reached over the plastic barrier and hugged him before letting Allison and Isaac do the same. "You're alright?"

"Yeah, dude. No owies or ouchies have been made," Stiles promised, moving along to hug Lydia. "Derek swooped in and saved the day."

"Why didn't you call us?" Lydia hissed. "You know how to call us without looking at your phone."

"Don't have my phone, sorry. I accidentally killed it today."

Erica pulled him into her arms and the blonde took a good whiff of him. "What'd he do? Lick you? His stench is all over you."

"Actually, yeah," Stiles grumbled. "He got a little handsy but it's all good now. You guys can puppy pile me when you get the chance. Derek's already working on it."

"I bet."

"I heard you two were dating. What's going on there?" Isaac laughed.

"Oh! Speaking of, how are we supposed to break up?" Stiles asked, turning back around to Derek. "I mean, my dad thinks we've been dating for a few months now."

"Maybe we break up when he sends me to jail for raping your underage arse," Derek grumbled, standing as close to Stiles as he needed to be. "You only just turned eighteen."

"Yeah, we're gonna have to convince him that we haven't done that."

"Shouldn't be too difficult since you haven't," Scott pointed out. "You two haven't, right?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Stiles the Perpetual Virgin is perpetually a virgin. I haven't slept with Derek and you all know that. Look, we have to drop in by Dad's work and give an official statement, but we'll be up at the loft after that."

Derek handed his car keys over to Isaac. "Scratch it and you're grounded."

A little over a year and a half ago, Derek was appointed Isaac's guardian and they lived together in the loft. "I don't think you can ground me, Derek."

"You've still got two months to go before you're eighteen. I can ground you if I want."

"Megan won't appreciate that."

"And I won't appreciate a scratch on a car that cost me more than it costs to feed you."

"Understood," Isaac conceded, clapping a hand on Erica's shoulder. "Let's go."

Allison and Scott waited until Lydia and Jackson had taken off. "She still doesn't know," Allison told Stiles, leaning in to Scott.

"Thank fuck," Stiles breathed and Derek's hand came up to the back of Stiles' neck. "I'd hate for me being a hostage to a crazy-as-fuck omega werewolf who wanted to 'mount' me, as he said, interfere with our party plans."

"She's still coming by at five. Jackson's making sure of it," Scott added. "He said something about taking her shoe shopping once they knew you were safe. Well, he said 'not dead yet'…"

"I feel so loved."

With a chuckle, Scott leant over and ruffled his hair before saying their goodbyes.

"Where'd you park?" Stiles pointed it out and Derek led his towards the Jeep.

In the car, Stiles started off with an apology that lasted half the ride. Derek was driving, letting Stiles rest back against the passenger seat while the adrenaline wore off quickly, dropping off with every yard between them and the bank.

"I can't even begin to start, dude. I'm so sorry. I mean, outing us in a relationship that we're not even in? I told everyone in that bank and I don't care if they think I'm gay, 'cause really, I think I _am_ a little bit gay, if not eighty-three percent gay, maybe, but I don't know how you feel about it, so I'm sorry. I'm really…"

"It's okay," Derek told him, changing gears. "It doesn't bother me as long as your dad doesn't arrest me again."

"The old bat who lives across the road from me, Missus Holloway, was there. The whole town'll know by tomorrow. She'll be more focused on the 'us dating' part and less interested in the fact she was held in a bank at gunpoint for an hour."

Even Derek had to chuckle at that. "Yes, I guess she would be."

"Won't you being gay ruin your image or something like that?"

"What image?"

"That insanely hot manly thing you've got going on? I figured that works really well with the women. Outing you has having a teenage boyfriend won't help that at all."

"I'm not worried."

"Oh, God, now I have this image of you being some massive playboy in my head."

Derek was smiling lightly. "So what are we telling your dad?"

A tune was tapped out on Stiles' thigh before he got too tired to keep up with it. "I told him on the phone that we've been together for a few months, so that means that we were dating before I was eighteen."

"Just as long as he believes us when we say that we haven't slept together yet, we'll be fine, then."

"And that'll be totally believable since we haven't in reality. And then, you know, we can break up when I go to Stanford because long-distance relationships suck."

"You sound very sure about Stanford," Derek pointed out and Stiles bit his lips shut before looking out the window, refusing to look towards Derek at all. "Have you heard back from and schools yet about early admittance, Stiles? Should this party for Lydia be for you as well?"

"Nah, man. Getting into Stanford is nothing like getting into Yale."

There was a smile that the pack saw very rarely from Derek, one wherein teeth were actually visible, and that was the smile that graced Derek's face at that moment. "Congratulations. When did you find out?"

"Yesterday. I haven't even told Dad yet. I knew he'd start in on how proud Mum would be and I'm not ready to be a snotty, crying mess right now."

"I didn't tell Laura about NYU for a month," Derek admitted and Stiles' eyebrows shot up in shock. They'd all been a little bit surprised to find out that Derek had graduated from New York University just a month before he returned to Beacon Hills and that he'd studied architecture, but him giving up such private personal information like that so easily would always astonish Stiles. "She was exactly the same, going on about happy and proud our parents would be. They met on campus there, so for me to go, it was a huge deal."

A part of Stiles just wanted to reach out and touch Derek, just for comfort. Werewolves were like that. They found comfort whenever a pack-mate touched them, so he gave in. He reached over and ran his hand over the back of Derek's neck. The alpha leant into it.

"I'm guessing you didn't meet anyone on campus, though. Or maybe you met several someones."

"You need to get it out of your head that I'm a slut, Stiles."

"Don't destroy my head-canon Derek, dude." He didn't move his hand, even when Derek turned and drew his brows together in question. "I'm doing that thing where I'm speaking another language that kinda sounds like English, but isn't, thanks to the joys of the internet."

Derek focused on the road again. "So, we tell your dad we started dated a few months ago, at the end of January or the start of February…"

"It'll really sell it to him if you know the exact date," Stiles said, letting his fingers slip down to just below Derek's ear. "You know, like you know the anniversary or something." With his free hand, he stole Derek's phone and checked the dates on it. "Yeah, January the twenty-eighth, you took me to dinner and a movie. I went to the cinema with Scott that night. We saw that comedy…anyway. We do date things but we don't have sex."

"Agreed."

"Jesus, why is it that lying to my dad comes so easily?"

Derek let go of the gear stick to grab on to Stiles' hand, dragging the back of Stiles' fingers across his jaw to nuzzle into it. "We're keeping him safe by not telling him about werewolves, Stiles. Just be glad that he can't catch you out on it. I tried so many times to lie to my dad and he always knew. It was Mum who was worse, though. Or Laura. But when I kept secrets from Laura, it generally was something terribly embarrassing and she'd taunt me for weeks."

Stiles laughed before looking out of the window. His hand didn't move, though, not until Derek guided it back up his neck to leave it there.

"So, can I, like, call you pet-names in front of my dad?"

They didn't walk into the station hand in hand, but the way that the police stared at them, you'd think they had. Dad hadn't comeback yet, so they were guided over to a bench to wait until he was ready, where they sat pressed against each other. Derek was doing that thing where he was touching Stiles to know that he was alright and Stiles was more than fine with that.

"Thanks," Stiles breathed into Derek's shoulder when they were settled. Derek's hand settled on Stiles' knee, which he squeezed comfortingly. "I've never heard you talk about New York so much before."

"It never came up."

"And, you know, your parents…" A deep breath expanded Derek's upper body so much that Stiles' body moved with it. "Sorry. I won't…"

"It's fine. It's getting easier."

"I don't think it'll ever be easy."

"We'll see."

By the time the sheriff got to the station, Stiles was sleeping, turned to the side and resting completely on Derek and Derek had let his own arm slide around Stiles and the wall to keep Stiles where he was. Letting your boyfriend fall to the floor was a bad idea, even if he was only your fake boyfriend.

"Jesus," Dad grumbled, halting at the door when he saw them, going red in the face with embarrassment. "I'm not ready for this. Who let them snuggle?"

Derek shook Stiles awake, who literally jolted and flailed so much that Derek had to wrap his other arm around him to stop him from slipping off the bench.

"Oh, hey Dad," Stiles got out once he was straightened up, though his final position had him slouching half on top of Derek with a palm flat against Derek's upper thigh.

Dad shook his head and motioned for them to follow him to his office. He handed them each a notepad and a pen. "You both know the drill. Full statement, signed and dated." When he sat down behind his desk, he rubbed a hand over his tired face. "My son and his boyfriend know how to write up official witness statements after a crime has been committed."

"Really? I thought Derek only knew how to write ones claiming his innocence."

"That really doesn't help," Derek muttered, not looking up from where he was writing. After they finished, the three sat in silence while Dad read over the statements.

"So, what? He just gave up on all the money in the bank because he was interested in you, Stiles?"

With a grin and an air of cockiness that had both Dad and Derek rolling their eyes, Stiles boasted, "can you blame him? I'm one hell of a catch." He slapped Derek's upper arm with the back of his hand. "Right?"

Derek's words were stopped by the sheriff.

"Don't say anything," he told Derek, even pointing at him.

"Come on, Dad."

"No, Stiles. Now that we've got this sorted," Dad picked up the notepad and slapped it back down, "I want to talk about this _relationship_ you're in." And that had Stiles slumping back into his chair but Dad didn't look at him. His eyes were focused on Derek. "Do I need to arrest you again?"

"No, Sir." Derek was prompt. "We started dating before Stiles was eighteen, I know, but…"

"I'm still a virgin," Stiles groaned, even going as far as to glare at Derek. "Even though I've been eighteen for a fortnight, he still refuses to do _anything_ with me."

"Oh my God," Dad groaned, covering his eyes but Derek decided to take it one step further.

"No, Stiles," he argued, turning in his chair so he was facing the teen. "I'm not having sex with you just because it's legal now. You only get one first time and your first time isn't going to be because you're of age and want to get it over with. I don't want you to regret it." Dad groaned again because that really was the perfect response. "I was much too young and too stupid when I lost my virginity and I'd do anything to go back and change it."

And damnit if Derek was going to be the only one playing with this. "Well, I'm older than you were, right? So I'm not 'much too young' and I'm not stupid. I know what I want. I'm old enough to consent, to know what I'm doing. Do you really think it would be a mistake?"

"I want it to be perfect. I'm not saying that there'll be a bed of roses or candles burning, but it'll be right."

Stiles covered his mouth with his hand to hide the grin he burst out with. "Oh my God, you're a closet-romantic. How have I never noticed this before?"

"I lived with Laura and my grandmother for five years. I've suffered through my share of chick-flicks," said Derek with a raised eyebrow, daring Stiles to say anything about that before looking back at the sheriff when he Stiles raised his hands defensively, giving up.

Dad took in a deep breath and kept his eyes on Derek. "Do you have a job, Derek?"

Derek shook his head once. "I've gotten in contact with a few firms nearby but my portfolio is still in New York. I haven't had a chance to go back and get everything I left there."

"You still have a place in New York? It took you forever to get a place here, Derek," Stiles pointed out.

"You've been here for two years."

"I had a lot to sort out the first year and it's been a lot of work with Isaac."

And that had Dad turning his head to Stiles. "And you're comfortable being with someone who is the legal guardian of your friend?"

Stiles laughed. "It makes me Isaac's step-dad. You have no idea how much fun it is to play with his head." He grinned at Derek. "So you know how you said that if he scratched your car, he'd be grounded? Can I ground him? Please? Please Derek? It would be so awesome if I could."

"I'm not letting you ground a kid who's a month younger than you," Derek denied. "And Megan really would rip your arms off and I like you in one piece."

"I hear Isaac and that new Megan girl are engaged," Dad interjected at the mention of Megan. "You just let your charge get engaged at the age of seventeen?"

"I didn't encourage it but they've both agreed on waiting until they've graduated from college and have steady jobs before getting married."

"But they both live with you?"

"They have separate rooms." Derek explained. "You know her past, you know how many homes she's been in, and she's finally comfortable here with Isaac. I'm just glad she and Isaac have found each other and are happy with each other."

"Seriously," Stiles chuckled, "you're a romantic. It's adorable. Why weren't you all sappy on Valentine's Day?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "You don't want the answer to that. I don't want to answer that."

It wasn't a deterrent. Stiles leant over and started to poke him in the bicep. "Come, Derek, sweetheart, pumpkin. You can tell me."

The pet-names had Derek cringing and Dad shaking his head. "Don't call him that in front of me," Dad grumbled.

"You've embarrassed Dad now." Stiles was laughing much too hard over this before the realisation hit him. "Oh no. You didn't do anything on Valentine's Day because you're one of those 'every day is special' kind of people, aren't you?"

"That's enough." Dad's face was terribly red when he spoke. "I can't believe I'm actually feeling sorry for you, Derek."

"I feel like that for you quite a lot of the time, Sir," Derek admitted. "When he gets going, he doesn't stop, does he?"

A betrayed look spread over Stiles' face. "No, you two can't start bonding over torturing me."

"Why not? You torture us all the time."

Stiles swatted him and the look Derek gave him told him he was going to suffer for that later. "Alright, well, we're gonna have to leave, soon. I've still got that cake I need to finish for Lydia."

"Will you be joining us, Sir?" Derek asked and both Stilinskis gave him identical questioning looks. "It's not just Lydia who we should be celebrating." Derek motioned for Stiles to tell his dad the good news.

It was Dad who caught on instead of Stiles with a sly smile of his own. "Who else should we be celebrating, Stiles, and why should I be invited if it isn't you?"

Stiles gave Derek a dirty look before answering. "I may have gotten word back about early admission, myself."

Dad smiled brighter than Stiles had seen in a very long time. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's a full pass, scholarship and all, to Stanford, Dad."

The sheriff stood and walked around his desk to crush Stiles in a hug. "Congratulations. I'm proud, Stiles. Really proud. And don't even get me started on your mother."

"Thanks, Dad. So are you coming or not? Derek's in charge of the barbeque. I'll have him put on a few veggie burgers for you."

Derek stood as well. "They'll be steaks," he corrected.

"Oh my God! This is why I don't get blow jobs. You spend all of your sucking abilities sucking up to my dad."

Dad smacked him on the back of the head for his crudeness.

"This is one of those times where I feel sorry for you," Derek said dryly. "Sorry, Sir, but we should get going. We've still got some work to do before we're ready. Come by when you finish your shift here."

"Promise that steak?"

"Of course."

The sheriff smiled at Derek, patting his son on the shoulder twice. "I've just got a few more things here with Stiles, so you go on ahead."

Derek nodded and Stiles walked him to the door with a hand on his lower back. It was Stiles who leant in and pressed the kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth. "We won't be long."

Derek's response was to run his hand down Stiles' side, letting Stiles enjoy his heat of his body before flashing Stiles a heated gaze that Stiles had never seen.

Stiles had seen so many different sides to Derek before but this, this was new. There was a hunger there Stiles had never imagined would be sent his way, but there he was, looking at him like that and it was everything Stiles had wanted.

"I'll be out in the car," Derek said, lowly, letting his hand sweep up Stiles' body to squeeze the back of his neck gently.

When he was gone, Stiles found he had to lean against the doorframe to keep his body upright, a little blown away by the moment they'd just shared.

Dad got his attention by clearing his throat and Stiles shut the door before returning to his seat. "Are you sure about all of this? I mean, Derek Hale's an intense guy, with a lot more experience than you. And it seems like he's got an entire world in New York that you don't know about."

"He's a secretive guy," Stiles shrugged, "can you blame him? He's lost everyone he's ever cared about but he's slowly letting me in."

"I can't even imagine how this started, Stiles. You two don't exactly have much in common and given that you've accused him of murder, _twice_, I'm not too sure he'd be too keen on spending time around you or Scott."

Yeah, that murder thing was going to bite him and Derek in the arse, no matter the situation.

"I dunno. I guess Scott and I tried to make it up to him and it kinda grew from there. You know, he actually knows our anniversary? The exact date and all."

Dad gave him that look that told Stiles that Dad didn't believe him. "Come on."

"Seriously, Dad, it makes sense now that I know how much of a sap he is. And he came into a _bank robbery_ to save me, where they had guns and he didn't and we're not even having sex! That's gotta mean something, right? Like, I'm really special to him and all that."

"I thought you liked that Lydia Martin girl."

"Well, that really was just a crush. This," Stiles hesitated for a moment, "Dad, I think this is it or real or whatever they say. Oh God, I'm just like Scott when he realised he said he loved Allison for the first time. I think I love Derek."

And there was no acting involved. There was no pretending or playing it up for Dad. Stiles was in love with Derek.

"Holy shit." He clamped a hand over his mouth and did a quick mental calculation of how close Dad's office was to where Derek parked the car and whether if Derek would have been able to hear that or not. The words, he'd get, but the lack of a lie in his heart? Would he hear his heartbeat? "I-I'm sorry we took so long to tell you and that I kept Stanford a secret, but I think I have to go now." Stiles launched himself into Dad's arms quickly, gave him a few pats on the back and fled. Halfway down the hall, Stiles turned, "and don't forget the barbeque!" before he disappeared from his dad's sight.

Derek was sitting in the Jeep, left arm resting on the door over the wound-down window with the radio playing softly. That was a good sign, Stiles figured, that perhaps the radio had been on when Stiles had made his grand admission, but then he thought of how soon he'd told his dad that and tried to calculate if Derek would have been in the car or not by that point and dread started to pool in his stomach.

"Hey," Stiles greeted a little breathlessly, slipping into the passenger seat of the car. "Sorry about tha — "

Derek cut him off by leaning over the console and kissing him. The leather of his jacket squeaked, the angle was odd, noses met, teeth bashed, hands flailed but they wouldn't have it any other way.

It was Derek who ended the kiss, leaving Stiles gaping, but he didn't move too far away. "I don't want to pretend," said Derek, his voice deep and quiet, as if he was sharing the world's greatest secret.

"O-okay…"

"I heard, Stiles. I heard what you said and I heard that it wasn't a lie and I know you'll be gone for the next three years but I want _this_. I want you," Derek admitted and Stiles' mouth went dry. "I don't know what will happen with you at college or with the pack but…"

Stiles couldn't find the words, his tongue was too dry to function, so he nodded his head and wrapped his fingers around Derek's and bit at his own lip to hide the smile that would literally blind a person.

Derek's fingers clung back to Stiles' and he let his own smile form. "Okay. Okay. We'll figure this out."

They stopped off at the Stilinski household first, picking up the cake and letting Stiles shower. Having the scent of another wolf on him was driving Derek crazy, more so now that he'd let Stiles know how he felt about him. Sure, it would bother the other werewolves in the pack, too, but none more than Derek.

By the time Stiles was in the shower, he was still struggling to find his words. He couldn't recall a time when he'd said so little, other than the weeks following his mother's death, but he found himself too shocked to form any syllables that made any sense.

He'd confessed to being in love with Derek after he was involved in an armed bank robbery where he was taken hostage by a love-struck omega werewolf who wanted to mount him. Derek had gone into the middle of the robbery and had beaten the cock-head nearly to death for him and had gone ahead with the lie with his dad and then he'd kissed him. Derek had kissed him in the Jeep and he'd told him that he wanted him and he'd _looked_ at him that way and he was scrubbing his skin to make sure he didn't smell like some other werewolf because he had a werewolf of his own now.

"Oh my God," he said, finally, letting the water wash away all the suds.

Of course, he had no doubts that Derek was downstairs, listening in to everything and he wondered how the alpha would react to Stiles' reaction.

But he washed himself down and dried and dressed and headed down to the kitchen where he found Derek sitting up on the bench, treating himself to one of the peaches from the fruit bowl. Stiles always made sure there was plenty of fruit in the fruit bowl. That way, if Dad was ever peckish, he could grab a fresh and healthy snack instead of going for a bag of chips.

He let Derek finish off the peach and watched him throw the stone into the bin under the sink before approaching him, wondering where his words had disappeared to. He'd only just had them in the shower. Should've caught them, he figured, when he had them, because they've flown off again. Maybe he needed to start carrying with him a butterfly net or something so the words never escaped him again.

"If we take what you need to ice the cake to my place, it'll be easier — "

Words be damned. Stiles stepped up to the werewolf, right between the vee of his legs and leant up to kiss him, crashing their lips together in a second kiss that was almost as bad as their first.

The only saving grace was that Derek had a little more control. His hands came up to cradle Stiles' face, letting his long fingers curve around Stiles' jaw, behind the back of his head, to guide him and Stiles learned quickly.

Stiles pulled back, shivering when Derek's teeth sunk down into his bottom lip in an attempt to keep Stiles close.

"Yes," Stiles breathed before shaking his head. "Sorry. It didn't sound like a marriage proposal acceptance in my head," he rubbed a hand over his forehead, "in here. Yes, I want this. I want you and we'll figure it out when I go to Stanford because we can totally do long-distance. It's not like I'm going to the other side of the country or anything, so…"

"So yes," Derek clarified before dropping his head down to continue what Stiles had started.

The third kiss was so much better than the previous two. Lips slid together perfectly, Stiles' hands found the tops of Derek's thighs and Derek was groaning or Stiles was groaning and neither was very sure, but either way, it was everything Stiles had ever imagined kissing Derek would be.

It was Stiles who ventured out with his tongue, licking into Derek's mouth as boldly as he could and he knew for certain that it was Derek who moaned at that. Derek let his hands wander over Stiles' upper body before pushing him back far enough to let him slide off the bench and down Stiles' front, leaving Stiles to pant wetly into his ear when he moved his mouth down Stiles' chin and neck.

"Holy fuck that was hot," Stiles breathed before his whole body thrust up when Derek started to suck a mark into his collarbone. His fingers wound tightly into Derek's hair, holding him there, enjoying the super-possessiveness of an alpha werewolf staking his claim.

He could feel the smirk against his skin as Derek's hands found Stiles' waist and turned him so his back was against the bench before Derek dropped to his knees in front of Stiles and then Stiles' words disappeared again. Blinking stupidly down at the older man, Stiles felt his breath be taken away when Derek pushed his shirt up and nuzzled down his happy-trail, following with his tongue when he nuzzled back up to his belly-button.

"Been thinking about this," Derek muttered, kissing down to Stiles' waistband of his jeans, "ever since you said it to your dad. Been thinking about sucking you."

It was a very good thing that Stiles was caught between the bench and Derek because his knees just about gave way at Derek's admission. As it was, he could barely watch Derek's fingers unbutton his jeans and pull down the zip, so he closed his eyes and moaned when Derek peeled the material over his rear and down to his knees so his Batman boxer briefs were the only things between Derek's mouth and his cock.

And his cock, well, that had been standing at full attention since he'd heard Derek moan, so when Derek breathed, it was directly onto the wet spot where his precome had gathered, sending chills up his spine.

"Oh fuck," Stiles whimpered and Derek smiled before licking up the front of Stiles' underwear, right along the underside of Stiles' dick. "Are you actually giving me a blow job right now? Oh fuck."

Derek chuckled, still mouthing through the cotton. "You'll know when I'm giving you a blow job, Stiles."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay."

Derek's hands trailed up the back of Stiles' thighs, cupping his arse cheeks, before drifting back down to his knees, switching to the front, running back up and around and to his arse again to lift his hips, pulling them closer to his mouth and he opened up widely, groaning again when his tongue found that wet spot to have a little taste at Stiles' come. He stopped there, sucking on that spot, the tip of Stiles' cock, flicking his tongue out where he could feel the crown, trying to see if he could find the slit through the material.

Stiles' hips stuttered, overwhelmed with sensation, and he wet his lips, just a hint of pink tongue trailing over his lips that had Derek pause.

"Jesus," Derek hissed and his fingers curled in Stiles' underwear, dragging them down.

Cock bobbing in Derek's face, Stiles had no choice but to let his head fall back, letting one hand fall on the counter behind him and tangling the other in Derek's hair before he could think if it was a good idea or not.

Derek hummed and buried his head into the nest of curls at the base of Stiles' dick and Stiles felt the chuckle rumble out of his own chest at the werewolf's predictable nature, but then Derek was dragging his tongue up Stiles' dick and that chuckle was trapped in his chest somewhere, giving out to a gasp. The hand that wasn't in Derek's hair flew up to his mouth and he bit down on the side of his hand, where his thumb and his wrist connected. It didn't stop the whine from coming out, though, high and drawn out.

Derek's tongue slid back down, following that pulsing vein, not yet taking Stiles into his mouth. His lips, as wet as Derek could get them, ran up and down the sides, letting his tongue get a taste every other swipe until he finally licked over the head, lapping up the precome there and actually moaning at the taste. "Jesus," he repeated and his hand wrapped around the base, giving a few strong pumps that took Stiles' breath away, before finally taking the head into his mouth.

And Stiles would have crumbled if Derek hadn't run his hand up his torso, stopping on his sternum with enough strength to pin Stiles where he was, just in that one hand of his.

That did all sorts of things to Stiles. Drooling over a werewolf's strength wasn't new to Stiles. Hell, Scott's supernatural strength was oddly attractive and Stiles thought of him as a brother, but here was Derek, going down on him, using one hand to keep him upright like Stiles would use a hand to keep a door open.

"Oh, God, Derek," Stiles breathed, "you have no freakin' idea…"

Derek's eyes, blazing red, burned up at him through his eyelashes and his cheeks hollowed, his tongue swivelled and then he was inching down closer to his fist, taking in as much as he could.

"I-I can't watch this."

Derek moaned in response and started up a rhythm Stiles had seen far too many times in porn, where his hand slipped up with his mouth and back down to the base to cover, to stimulate, what Derek couldn't fit past his lips. A hot, wet tongue furled and unfurled against Stiles' burning flesh and, really, this was the first time someone other than Stiles had even touched his dick, and yeah, he wasn't going to last very long.

"Derek…I'm…"

Not that Derek needed to be told. He could feel how close Stiles was, so he tightened his grip and sucked harder and white flashed behind Stiles' closed eyes and he was coming, crying out Derek's name, tightening his grip on Derek's hair and his knees gave out completely when he was finished.

Derek guided him down to the floor, holding on to his thighs to let him slip instead of collapsing completely.

When Stiles came back down from his orgasm, breathing through the afterglow, the first thing he noticed was the smug look Derek had on his face.

"Oh, Jesus, you swallowed, didn't you?"

Derek actually laughed before he leant forward and pecked their lips together chastely.

"Dude, I'm not that guy. You can kiss me properly," Stiles said and Derek complied, slipping his knees under Stiles' thighs so Stiles was straddling and kissing him fully on the mouth, sliding his tongue alongside Stiles', letting Stiles taste his own release. Stiles' hands shakily returned to Derek's hair and he held him close, possessively, right up until Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' middle and turned him to lie flat on his back on the kitchen floorboards, in front of the fridge.

Then he was pulling Stiles' tee and flannel off, making sure his hands touched every bit of skin they could, before he was straddling Stiles' chest.

"Umm…"

"Just…shut up," Derek grumbled, flushed enough in the face to let Stiles know that he was embarrassed about what he was about to do.

And for a moment, Stiles crowed internally that Derek was embarrassed about something, but then Derek was undoing his belt and then that button and lowering his zip and Stiles couldn't take his eyes away from his alpha's busy hands. Jeans were shoved down as far as they needed to be and black underwear was pushed aside and then Derek…

Oh.

The only erection Stiles had ever seen in reality had been his own and this was a completely different angle and it was thick and long and veiny. Maybe uncircumcised, because, yeah, that was important and was it possible to have a perfect cock? Really? Because Stiles was starting to think that Derek had the perfect cock and then he started to stroke it and every question in Stiles' mind about whether if it was possible or not disappeared because yeah, when Derek was jerking off that amazing dick so closely to Stiles' face that he could _smell_ it, he was absolutely certain that Derek's cock was perfect.

Stiles reached up and let his fingers trail over Derek's thighs, scratching his blunt nails over the black denim and Derek let him do whatever he wanted to do until he saw Stiles licking his lips.

"No," Derek grunted, grabbing on to Stiles' right hand with his free left and guided it to his dick, letting him help jerk off. "Just this."

And when Stiles somehow got the courage to do so, he ran his finger over Derek's slit to collect the clear drop there and licked it off his fingertip, Derek gave a full-body shudder, heaved in a breath and then he was coming, too, spilling hotly over Stiles' collarbone and sternum and neck.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, Stiles."

He swung a leg over and sat on the floor beside his teenaged lover, rubbing his hand over the ejaculate streaking Stiles' chest, rubbing it into his skin.

"This is gross, dude," Stiles pointed out and Derek's nose wrinkled, leaving Stiles to guess if he agreed with him or not. "Do I get to shower after this?"

"No."

"So all of your betas are going to smell this on me? Peter is gonna be so smug and Scott's gonna be traumatised."

"Peter's always smug and I don't care if Scott's traumatised. I've spent the past two years smelling him and Allison on a daily basis."

Stiles laughed and took a moment to look at Derek. The older man was sweaty and messy, his lips swollen and his hair in all angles thanks to Stiles' hands and the blow job earlier. His eyes were still blown, still a thin ring of red around dilated pupils, his cheeks still flushed and not at all looking ridiculous with his softening cock still hanging out the front of his jeans. The rubbing, though, had all of Derek's attention.

"What's this mean?"

Derek's cheeks got darker. "Mine."

"Your gross sperm? Yeah. I could have told you that." The smile on Stiles' face was a teasing one, a happy one and Derek growled in return.

"It means that _you're_ mine."

"I could have told you that," Stiles repeated and Derek leant down to kiss him again. "Sex is, like, really good."

"That wasn't even the best part," Derek told him. "We'll get to that eventually." He let his hand trail down Stiles' sternum before he got up and reached for Stiles' flannel shirt. Stiles' entire face scrunched up as Derek started to pat-dry his chest. "Come on, then."

The shirt was left in the back of the Jeep and that smug look never left Derek's face.

"They are going to flip," Stiles realised suddenly as they pulled up to the complex.

Derek snorted. "Not our problem."

And flip they did. Peter, Isaac, Scott and Boyd were in the kitchen area of the open-space lower floor of the loft, Danny, Jeremy and Megan were setting up the audio system across the room and Erica was coming downstairs from where she and Allison were decorating the rooftop garden when Derek and Stiles arrived and every werewolf paused, sniffed and looked their way.

Scott was the first to react.

"Gross. So gross on so many levels. You _could have showered,_ douche-rabbits."

Danny as the only other human in the area could only go from what he saw. "Nice hickey. Good luck hiding that from your dad."

Glaring at Derek, Stiles slapped his hand over his neck, right over one of the marks Derek had left on him. There was another on his collarbone and, of course, the giant scent-mark over his chest. "I invited him to the barbeque," Derek said and reached over to snack on a celery stick. That had to be Lydia's influence.

"At least you don't smell like the other werewolf now," Jeremy said and Stiles dramatically rolled his eyes before putting the aioli in the fridge and getting out what he needed to ice the cake. Jeremy was Singaporean but had gotten his education all over the world. He'd studied in universities as an international student from France to Australia and because of this, his accent was a little difficult to pinpoint.

"I hate you all."

"Seriously? It's bad enough that you two did anything to begin with," Scott grumbled. "My best friend and my alpha? It's gonna get messy."

"I think they've already done the messy part," Peter snickered, pouring a packet of chips into a bowl. Stiles and Scott blanched at that.

All in all, though, it seemed like the pack was fine with the new couple and when Lydia found out, she sulked about no one else taking up her suggestion for a bet.

They headed upstairs when Dad got there and that was when Stiles saw the Stanford colours in one corner of the garden. He smiled as brightly as anyone had seen him and when Derek admitted to having called Erica while Stiles was in the shower, he just about swooned.

It didn't matter that he would end up at Stanford for the next few years. They'd make it work.

"Someone tells me you made this from scratch," Lydia came up to him and teased him later on in the evening. She was talking about the lime and chili. "It's excellent."

Stiles thought over everything that had happened today because of that minor accident. "Yes," he agreed, "it is."


End file.
